My Aim Is True
by RaeAnne
Summary: HouseCam, “I hate him…I hate that I love him, but most of all I love hating him…” Memories are killing, hate is consuming and release is long sought. New Chapter, 1.2.06 FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: **PG, mild PG-13 (for possible upsetting themes and a couple mild swear words)  
**Spoilers: **season one and most everything this season. Just bits and pieces from one and definite spoilers for an episode in season two but most all major events have been reworked, time lines have been twisted a bit too

**DISCLAIMER: **all the standard form and fact. Characters not mine but plot and 'story' is. The song from which this story gains its title and some major inspiration is 'Allison' by Elvis Costello.

**Author's Note:** hi, thank you so much for checking out my first 'House' story I hope you enjoy! Just a brief not if you'll indulge me :-) As this is my first story in the House category, I hope you'll forgive my sometimes other then pure representation of the characters. House himself is terrible for me (number one reason why this is a Cameron POV and centered story) so I hope he isn't appallingly bad. This story is going to be three parts so I hope you enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

As I mentioned in the disclaimer this story is inspired by the song 'Allison' and there are lyrics from another Elvis Costello song toward the middle—end that if you can guess the song major bonus points :-) Merry Christmas and happy reading! –RaeAnne

**My Aim Is True  
By RaeAnne**

I hate him. I hate him as much as I love him.

Why do I do this? Why do I sit here pondering him and all his faults, all his virtues, his quirks and his habits?

I hate him.

I never knew he could be such an enemy. I battle the clock from the time I step through the hospital door. I find myself on pins and needles till I see him. My day doesn't start till my eyes meet his. Believe me, this isn't some romantic gesture—it's torture…agony. Time becomes the opponent in my war with my emotions. It feels like my life is defined by his…and I hate that…And I hate him.

He insults me, degrades me, patronizes me, condescends and humiliates me. He knows my triggers and plays every one as only he can. I hate him for it.

I hate that I see him as few do. I hate that I've seen him show tenderness, that I've seen him vulnerable. I hate and love that he has confessed that he needs me. I hate that I feel obligated to him, chained to him, entwined with him.

I hate him…I hate that I love him, but most of all I love hating him.

--------------------------

But that was then. It's been five years since I left the fellowship at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and five years since I've seen _him_.

I truly don't know what I am doing here, I should have staid gone. But here I stand in the clinic lobby just coming in from the wet New Jersey spring night. I should turn around, but something won't let me.

No one recognizes me; no surprise since all the staff seems to be new. Small miracles; I don't know what I would say to anyone…I don't even know what I will say to him.

I shake my coat free of the remaining water then drape it over my arm. I cringe as my heels make squeaky clicks on the tile floor. I didn't have time to change after dinner, I truly thought I would come to senses and go to the hotel, giving up this absurd detour. Once again, my common sense didn't prevail.

"I'd like to see Dr. House."

I mentally slapped myself when I hear my pleading, hesitant voice. If I fall apart here, what am I going to do in front of him?

"I am sorry ma'am, Dr. House isn't at the clinic tonight, but if you come tomorrow during regular hours you should be able to see him."

I mimicked the woman's plastic smile and mentally thanked her for nothing.

"Allison?"

I know that voice. Spinning around I nearly collide with Dr. James Wilson.

"Wilson!" the memories start to rush back…

"What are you doing here? I figured you were halfway way to…"

"Well plans change, I am only here for a couple days, I had a conference," I interrupted, "and it's really good to see you!"

We pause for a few awkward seconds before sharing a friendly hug.

"Does he know you're here?"

I swallowed hard; I didn't want to face it, not yet…

"No…" I tuck a strand of wayward hair behind my ear. A nervous habit I thought I had broken myself of.

"Are you going to see him or are you just here to say a hello to Foreman and me before hopping a plane?"

The trademark Wilson dry sarcasm is somehow a mellowing comfort—a fitting welcome back.

"I'm here to see him."

Believe me saying that out loud was as much a shock to me as to Wilson.

I agreed to the conference in Princeton because of him…I staid over for him…I am standing in this hospital for him. Just another reason why I hate him, even today though I deny it whenever I can, he possess a part of me.

"He is in his office," Wilson tucks his hands into his pockets looking intently at me.

Just my luck, I had hopped the receptionist was right that he had gone. I hesitate before making any move. I could still back out, I could still turn around. I don't know if I can do this, if I can walk into his office, look into his eyes and not shatter all over again. I know I am crazy, but up till now my resolve, that I could do this had been so sure.

"I'll go up." I hated that even to me I sound hollow and weak, "It was so good seeing you! Give my best to Julie if I don't get the chance to see you again before I leave." I hug him again giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I will but it might be hard. Julie and I divorced a year ago."

He is grinning sheepishly, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. I shake my head and laugh, "Then pass it on to either the current or future Mrs. Wilson."

I head to the elevator banks trying to regulate my breathing. I hate this so much, I hate my weakness…I hate him. But I have to do this if I ever expect to be whole.

"Allison…" Wilson calls quietly just as my elevator arrives.

I turn.

"Remember it wasn't only you who was hurt by what happened."

Those soft spoken words cripple me; hit me like a two ton weight. Those words, that realization of a fact I knew but failed to remember hit me hard. I can't answer him, can't face it right now. I just get on the elevator.

The doors close blocking Wilson and his sympathy stricken face from my eyes.

I hate _him _for this; I hate him for being my un healing wound.

The halls are remarkably empty and eerily silent. Only my Prada heels click, only my shallow unsteady breathing disrupts the stillness.

His door looms. My heart pounds and my palms dampen. Why am I doing this? Why am I subjecting myself to this pain, to this horror? I left five years ago for a reason, I told all of this goodbye…

Tears pool and throb behind my eyes. This is going to heal me? This is going to help me mend. Doing this is going to help me embrace my future by resurrecting and reliving the past?

But before I can turn around, I am standing before the glass door staring directly into Dr. Gregory House's beautiful blue eyes. I start to shake.

I stand there for an eternal long second and neither one of us move. I with a hand anything but steady open the door stepping through on rubber legs.

He sits behind his desk, leaning back. Darkness engulfs all but the area illuminated by the lights shinning in from the outside.

"Dr. Cameron-Chase… co-head of Pediatric Diagnostics with her illustrious spouse Dr. Robert Chase of Boston Massachusetts, back here after all these years…Hmm, nice shoes but where's the ball and chain?"

His voice is just like I remember it, just as disarming as it ever was. The gravely timbre still has the power to make me teeter on the verge of a full blown swoon. However, I don't remember his face being so tired and pale, or his hair having this much gray veining it. He's still the devastatingly handsome, sardonic House I fell for.

I didn't stay anything but as I took a couple steps toward his desk, he didn't give the chance anyway.

"I was quite surprised when I heard you and the Brit…or excuse me the _Aussie_ were tying the hangman's knot of wedded bliss. Though why should I be surprised at my little duckling taking off your party dress…  
"What are you doing here? Back to poke fun at the cripple?" he twirled his cane as he spoke mockingly.

I have known him to be cold in the past but to be this venomous and smug so quickly hurts like dagger thrust and twisted in my core.

I take a deep breath deciding that for once I won't be subtle, if he wants blunt I can be blunt.

"I am here because I hate you. I am broken and the memories un dealt with are keeping me that way. I am here because I hate you…I hate you for what you did to me." I don't find the release I thought I would have with that admission; nevertheless, I can't back down now.

"Well then it seems my fears of us having nothing in common after all these years were completely unfounded because I hate you too. But lets not get in a nasty tiff about who hated who first or who hates who more because Chase might get jealous," he answered back lightning fast and with that superior taunting tone, he matched it with that rolling of his eyes and put off huff.

His smirk is killing, his delivery pitch perfect successfully rendering me to my knees.

I grab the back of the chair for support then sit heavily.

"Why didn't you ever try and contact me?" I clamped my hands together to keep from…from…well I don't know. I just know that my nails are digging into my palms; maybe it'll be that physical pain that'll keep me grounded.

"Don't waste time with pretty chit chat do you? Just get right down to the nitty gritty; good if we are asking questions I have one, what did you do with my red coffee cup? I haven't been able to find it since you left…"

"This is not a social call House! I'm not here to exchange frivolous comments. I just want to talk about what happened so I can actually live my life! I want to get this over and done with, I think we've put this off long enough," I won't let his callousness throw me from my goal.

"Oh is that what you want? Let's see what happened? What happened…Are you referring to what transpired five years ago when you left here after miscarrying our child not bothering to tell me I had even gotten you pregnant?  
"Or are we talking about what happened when the chicken crossed the road because I've been dying to hear what happened…I hear the punch line is a real doozy!" he gives a loud contemptuous laugh while giving his chair a full rotation.

How dare he! How dare he sit there and talk about what happened like that…?

Tears burn so much I can hardly keep them back, "I didn't tell you because…because by the time I had come to accept I was having a baby…by the time I had the courage to even thinking about telling you…the baby was gone!How was I to tell you I lost our baby when you made it perfectly clear you wanted nothing to do with the morning after you slept me! How could I come up to you and say 'by the way House I am pregnant with your kid but I didn't do on purpose, trust me!' I can just picture your response! …Yeah House; I am going to do that!"

"Enough…enough! You've made your point—clearly. But what are you doing here now, you've had five years to deal with this and aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon with pretty boy?"

Tears quickly evaporate in the heat of my anger. He is so smug, so arrogant, so self righteous!

"Don't you dare at yell me! Don't you…da_re_…you don't have the right…"

I didn't mean to cry, I didn't want to break down in front of him but once I felt the first tear fall the dam gave way.

"Don't make me hate you more then I already do…don't make me…" I choke so unbearably on the sobs growing so forcefully so quickly from a depth in me I didn't know existed.

"Tell me…tell me why Chase…" House leans across the desk eyes exploring, penetrating, "Of all the men in the country, in this forsaken hospital did you pick the one man that turned informer on me to save his own neck, the man that I have the least amount of respect for…the one man that you knew I couldn't accept…Why did you go to him, tell him, marry him?"

I quaked. It was like five years hadn't passed at all, like nothing had changed. The pain is still just as sharp and stabbing.

"Chase was there. He cared; he gave his shoulder when I couldn't get you to give me the time of day! He helped me accept, grieve and bury my daughter! He accepted me broken and didn't care. And you know what maybe—no I did, I did turn to him because I knew it would make you angry.  
"You hurt me and so help me I wanted to hurt you even a fraction of how bad you hurt me! I wanted you to hurt! But I came to love Chase because he loved me in spite of you…"

"Well then since your spite is complete…why aren't you? I know I might be masochistic but you my dear Cameron-Chase are soft so why if marrying Chase, moving away and moving on with your life is your punishment to me, are you back here? Coming to see if it worked? If that were so, you wouldn't be telling me that you wanted to put to rest memories…you're still broken."

"You're right, I am broken…broken beyond any and all recognition. I came hear to lay all the blame at your feet but I can't…I came to you broken, left you broken but so help me I'll not continue to be broken! I'll not go on clinging to shreds of normalcy, I am going to rebuild so help me!"

"How?" he slammed his cane on the desk making me flinch, "How are you doing that? Coming here and blaming me? You expect to find your salvation in crucifying me?  
"I made a mistake, yes I'll admit it. But you compounded it by not giving me the chance to rectify it, by getting on a plane to Boston minutes after telling me. Don't try and lay all the blame for our drunken night of sex solely on me because you could have said no.  
"You're also right, you were broken, damaged and muddling through when you came to me and that's why you came because you saw brokenness in me and thought perhaps you could fix me when you couldn't fix yourself.  
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I, the cold, nasty, indifferent House could feel the loss of a child I didn't even know I had till it was gone? That maybe I was stunned about having a chance to be a father and then losing that chance in the span of less then a minute. Did you ever give that a thought?"

Fact is, I did, and I have. I dismissed it because it was easier to peg him as the catalyst of my misery dwelling in the core of me. Easier to think that I couldn't hurt him, that nothing could hurt, the indestructible House; it was easier to believe I was the only one who grieved.

"You never gave me a chance…you pinned for Stacy; your every spare moment was spent seeking her. You accused me of hanging on to the hurt of my husband dying…of wearing it like a badge…How blind did you think I was? You were a hypocrite. You drove your girlfriend away with your bitterness and anger over your leg and then hung onto that vigilantly rage and resentment just waiting to turn it back on her. To prove that she made the mistake, that she pushed you away…that she couldn't deal with your injury instead of the other way around. You wanted to prove that she still loved you, so you could take her back with your holier then thou attitude still in tact…" I am ranting so loud I don't doubt the whole hospital can hear me. But I don't care.

"You mean like you are doing right now? Trying to absolve yourself of your guilt? Because Allison you're not here to forgive me or even to punish me are you?"

For yet another time I am sucker punched by a revelation I didn't want to see. Have I all this time been playing a wicked joke on myself? I remember the night of our first and only date; the date I forced as my price for coming back to work…

We drank way too much trying to compensate for the miserable dinner, for it was miserable. I knew better then to demand the date…I knew that what was between us, (you can't convince me there wasn't something) couldn't be forced… held to rules and limits. It had to be spontaneous and not pressured or over analyzed. It had to unconventional, like the monster truck rally, convention was not, is not, Houses' strong suite.

So we drank and stumbled to his car…that beautiful red convertible and made love in the back seat while the alcohol coated our consciences and saturated our pleasure seeking senses.

The recovery from that night about did me in. I never wanted a one night stand with House but some how I couldn't' bring myself to regret it.

Then Stacy came and the fragile mental grasp I had upon my heart broke into a thousand emotional pieces. I stopped eating, wasn't sleeping well, so when I missed my period I didn't attribute it to much. I didn't give a second thought to the failure/success rate of my birth control pills or even to the lack of protection that night…'baby' was the least and furthest thought from my mind.

I learned to deal with Stacy somehow in the weeks after and chalked up my upset stomach and dizziness to an onset of the flu.

Then came the night with Chase…it had started so innocently and ended again in the backseat of a car.

That week I found out, I was pregnant. I don't really know what possessed me to do the blood work but I did. I knew though before the results came back that I was pregnant. I can't explain how I knew, but it just rang like an executioner's bell and I knew.

Absolute terror was my first single emotion. I could only stand staring at the results with an unconscious hand on my stomach. What had I done? I went home and called in sick for the next three days which wasn't that much of stretch since everyone though I had been coming down with a bug…but not a baby. I went over everything…I would keep the baby and I wouldn't tell House. It was a rash emotional roller coaster that I was riding when I made that decision but as I saw it, there was no other choice.

I had wanted a child, I desperately wanted to have a child with my late husband but because of his illness, we were never able to. I had never found the right man after that. I looked at this child as a blessing as well as the most terrifying thing I would ever attempt.

I would be able to hide my pregnancy I thought for a good while. There were women who did it all the time. Certainly, my change of style would raise eyebrows but thankfully, the lab coats were roomy.

Two months passed with little commotion or question. I started, quietly, to look around for a new position I knew leaving would be my only choice but I was dragging my feet.

That was when the scare happened. Blood from an HIV positive man was splattered on me while I was examining him. I knew that moment I had to leave. I had to get my baby away from harm…

I was almost four months pregnant and I wasn't going to take any chances. I was on a precarious edge ready to crack anyway—and this event was an earthquake.

I by accident found a teaching position at the University of Massachusetts it was perfect. The semester would start in a month and a half; I could start to relocate right away.

I told Chase soon after mostly because he was starting to figure it out. He was the only one that really paid me any attention any more. House had Stacy and Foreman was being kept on his toes by House too. I blended easily but having Chase as an ally was a relief.

Chase being the only one I was involved with any where near the time of conception asked politely if there was any chance he was the father…he could clearly see the timing was off but I appreciated his concern.

It was in those following weeks that I started really caring for Chase, he was invaluable. He took the House situation remarkably well and then helped me carry the weight.

Two weeks before I was to leave and the day, I was going to turn in my resignation I miscarried.

The doctors couldn't explain it, 'just one of those things' they said 'your body just rejected the baby' I could have killed them, how can you explain to a woman who felt that baby alive and moving in her that her body 'just' anything!

I remember the pain, the dizziness…and the blood but not much more. It happened at home. I evidently passed out on the kitchen floor where Chase found me barely alive and bleeding out.

I woke up in a hospital bed but not in PPTH with Chase holding my hand. He didn't have to tell me, because just like I how I knew I was pregnant with her–she was a girl—I knew I lost her. Even if I hadn't felt it through the pain medication and the haze, I would have known when I looked into Chase's eyes.

I'll never forget his eyes or that feeling…

* * *

**part two coming soon! I hope you enjoyed and any feedback would be so wonderful! Thanks RA**


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously….**

_I woke up in a hospital bed but not in PPTH with Chase holding my hand. He didn't have to tell me, because just like I how I knew I was pregnant with her–she was a girl—I knew I lost her. Even if I hadn't felt it through the pain medication and the haze, I would have known when I looked into Chase's eyes._

_I'll never forget his eyes or that feeling…

* * *

_

"Don't try and spin this House…please…" I cover my eyes with my palm. House is silent. He hit the target and knows it. Just like when he pegs a diagnosis. Once he thinks he's right he'll never back down, never let go. Problem for me is not that he thinks he's right but that he is.

…I left the hospital three days later and buried my daughter in a small cemetery with only Chase at my side the next day. I had to call Boston and tell them I couldn't come. There was no way I could relocate now…maybe if I had then I perhaps would have healed.

I held on for eight months…I drove by the cemetery everyday and I cried every night. I was contacted again by the University, only this time if was for their hospital. They wanted me to head up the Pediatric Diagnostic Department. I closed myself up in my all room crying, thinking and soul searching after talking to them…then called in the morning telling them I would accept and that if they were interested I knew a top notch intensevist that was also interested.

I moved and a month later Chase followed…

"What are you doing here? Really, no more of…" House waves his hand in obvious distaste, "this. I can see whatever it is that brought you here—away from your adoring husband," I cringe, "and to an old friend's desk isn't your incessant need to scream at me. Something is killing you Allison Cameron-Chase…what is it?"

My head is pounding from the effort of trying not to cry and my nose is both runny and stuffed up from crying. My eyes are burning and scratchy…he is right, I am dying. I've been dying slowly since I told him goodbye.

"I didn't marry Chase."

I see his shock and him gain back control quickly.

"Your wedding was set for a week ago…I saw the announcement in the New England Medical Journal in between articles on a new cancer treatment and an add for Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream, it was going to be the toast of the town…'Two magnificent doctors making it a family affair' they said, or something else equally tooth achingly sugary," His voice is quiet and harshly imploring, "Why didn't you marry him?"

I bite my lip shrug my shoulders and close my eyes briefly, "Because I hate you…I hate you such. So much, that sometimes I can't sleep and when I do, I wake up with your name on my lips, I hate you so much and that you've infiltrated everything I do! When I think about you, I can't breathe, I get ill and most times, I can't stop crying…I hate you. These are my symptoms…for you are in me like a disease. Tell me Dr. House how do you treat a condition that centers in that undetectable, untouchable part of the human make-up known as the soul? This affliction I have is that I love you…and because I love you so damn much I hate you…"

I cover my mouth with a hand trying to hold in the sobs.

"Contradiction…thy name is woman."

I laugh. I laugh, sob and choke…and I laugh again like some mad woman that has lost her sanity. Maybe I have…

"I couldn't marry Chase because he wasn't you…so I thought that if I could come here, confront you, deal with losing my child that that would heal me of you so maybe I could go back to Boston…go back and try to salvage my life…" I dare to look at him, feeling his stare; being consumed by it is ten times worse then actually meeting it.

"I know you don't love me, you never have and that's okay. I'm not here to lay claim to some section of your heart, I'm not here even for sympathy…I'm not asking anything of you. I am here, as you have made me understand, to get rid of my guilt. I didn't realize I had… because up till now I blamed you. I thought I came here to punish you to make you remorseful…Truth is you didn't do anything that deserves my hatred.  
"It was easier to blame you, to believe that you made me leave, that somehow…and I know this asinine and how any rational, stable person could come up with this I don't know…but somehow I thought you caused me to lose her. It was easier to run away thinking you didn't care about the baby. Easier to leave blaming you then to stay and know that I was the guilty one…I thought that I could come here and that you would somehow apologize and everything would magically be better…  
"I am sorry House…sorry for not telling you about the baby, for hiding her from you. I am sorry for how I left… and for this. I'd say I shouldn't have come but I would be lying. I am too selfish, I needed this, but I am sorry you had to be a part of it."

I can't bear to look at him. I can't…I push out of my chair and though my legs can't quite seem to carry me steadily, I head to the door.

"Annabelle Rose House…that should have been her name…"

Any chance of leaving of my own power dissolves. My whole body tenses and I snap my eyes closed with the shocking pain that starts in my heart and radiates out. It all but crushes me…his words, his broken voice…his sadness, "I named her Annabelle after my grandmother…and Rose after my Aunt…" I whisper hoarsely turning back around, "but how could I have given her your last name when I hadn't even been able to tell you about her...?"

"She was my child, how could you deny me my right to known until it was too late? How could you deny me my right to her? She was as much me as she was you."

Tears start to roll again, I can't stomach this. I've never seen House this vulnerable…hurt…I never realized that I could hurt him and yet… I have.

"I am sorry…so sorry," I choke on the words. It is the only thing I can think to offer and I know that it isn't nearly enough.

"Don't marry Chase…" he stands pushing back his chair. I am caught off guard by the sudden subject change. He moves slowly with his uneven walk to stand a few feet in front of me.

"He can't make you whole and you know that. He helped you through I'll give him that…but he can't heal you like you want. He doesn't even know your illness, not really…"

"Please just let me go…"

"Sorry I can't. I wish I could but I have this nasty doctor obligation thing. See there is the Hippocratic Oath about doing no harm and helping or some other nonsense…" his wry attempt at a joke; for once, his timing is off.

"I'm not marrying Chase. When we called off the wedding we also decided that our relationship wasn't in our best interests…"

"I know, I could have told you that. But don't you want to know why? Don't you wonder why you can't feel whole, why you can't really heal?"

I could slap that smug smile right off face but his eyes are so bright and his face has lost ten years. I think I would give anything to keep him looking at me like he is.

"It's because you're broken. You can't be complete, you can't be whole and that is a fact…you will never be as you were before being broken. It's like when you break a glass. You can gather all the pieces and carefully glue them back together but inevitably, you won't be able to collect every piece, a small piece will be missing here and there and there will be seams.  
"You can still live a happy well adjusted life but you'll never be able to live with someone who will try to fix you, make you perfectly whole because you can't be fixed. Your husband dying, me, your miscarriage…it has all changed you, chipped away at you. It's why you are the way you are. It's why you care so passionately for your patients, hell it's why you went to medical school. Your brokenness fundamentally changed you. You empathize and feel the pain of others because you are broken beyond mend.  
"You'll never find happiness, contentment till you find someone who can understand that. Chase adored you and accepted you damaged perhaps, but he doesn't posses the capacity to be broken like you have been. He can't understand that about you. He looked at you and found a project, something he could fix…but you can't be fixed so he gave up didn't he? He got angry didn't he…He wanted to know when you were going to get over it…when you were going to finally be normal, didn't he?"

I want him to stop, I hold up my hands trying to beg him to…but he just goes on.

"He doesn't understand he can't…no one can, but me. I understand because I too am damaged physically and emotionally. It just happens my damage has me as I am…and you as you are. We aren't fixable Allison, we can't be whole like everyone else but I think that like the glue that holds the pieces of the glass together our scars are stronger then the rest of us. We've been bonded together by scar tissue and made tougher by it so we can endure more…We may be broken but we are stronger in ways that can only come from being crippled…"

His words abruptly stop and silence quickly engulfs us. My heart beat is pounding in my ears; the blood rushing is making me dizzy.

"Being broken made me angry, disillusioned, bitter and a bit crazy. It made you caring, eternally good and so subject to hurt. I think Spiderman said it best…what was it… "this is my gift, this is my curse" or something like that," he gives a wane smile.

"Always the diagnostician…Well Doctor what do we do? We're broken…but not in pieces…What can we do?" my voice is raspy and raw.

He steps closer raising a hand almost touching my cheek. He pulls back with his face full of misery and regret, "We accept not defeat, we embrace the wreckage and try not to totally mangle our second chance."

That's it. I all but fall into his arms. He staggers back but catches me, wrapping his free arm around me. I feel him release a long breath, "I'm glad you came back."

I laugh through my tears that I cry into his shoulder, "Me too…but I still hate you," I pull back to look into his face.

He smiles at me, sweetly for once, "I hate you too and have for a while but I didn't want to give you a complex, you being of such an impressionable temperament and all…"

I wipe my nose growing light of heart, "You know when I say I hate you I really mean I'm madly in love with you right?"

"Yeah I know…ditto."

-----------------

…I am so stiff…What am I lying against?

I cautiously open one eye. I see light…and some furniture, I think, it's all kind of blurry at the moment. I slowly open the other eye.

"I thought you were never going to wake up. You can stand to lay off the Krispy Kremes for a while Cupcake, you're killing me!"

I look to the right and scream. Well it was going to be a scream but I lose conviction mid way through so it comes out as more of a strangled 'cry'.

I am in Houses' arms and we're lying half sitting in his lounge chair in his office…it is coming back. And just like that, a wave of drowning love sweeps me up.

Glancing around I see all the curtains in his glass paned office are closed, good thing. I cuddle closer to him.

I fit perfectly here, I always knew I would. This is where I belong; my head fits perfectly under his chin. I press my face against his neck and catch the fading scent of his soap, his steady pulse and as I kiss my way up to his jaw, I giggle from the feeling his scratchy whiskers give.

"Well good morning to you too…" he looks at me with his eyes alert and sexily devilish, hair wild and smile delightfully crooked.

I grin, if this playfully wicked House is what I can expect every morning…"I'd say good morning," I give what I hope to be a slow, sexy, devastating smile.

Before I can gauge how it worked, he in a quick motion dumps me on the floor! I gasp in surprise.

"I wasn't kidding about the doughnuts, you've made my good leg crippled and I won't go on about the rest of me…I should sue!"

I am too stunned to be on the floor to form a reply. He is smiling cheekily at me as he works his tight limbs and reaches into his pocket palming a couple vicodin and dry swallowing them. No there won't be any sticky, gooey words of an eternal valentine from him. Chase gave me that, Chase was gentle and attentive his words of love stuck like a marshmallow to your shirt…but not House.

It took what happened last night for me to realize I don't want that marshmallow valentine…I want real. That is what I get with House. He is that stark no embellishments reality that grounds me.

House and I create balance. He makes me face my demons; he makes me angry and doesn't try to glorify the ugly or give false hope. He knows all the buttons to push—and pushes them, he makes me irate and indignant but not because he desires to make me miserable but to save me. It brings me back from my trips of fantasy and illusion; he keeps me from falling into the trap of my self pity and wallowing in depression. He keeps me from losing myself in other peoples' hurt and from getting bogged down in my own.

In turn, I keep him from letting his antipathy, narcissism and melancholy consume him. Our faults, our weaknesses become our strengths when we're together. He keeps me from feeling too much, I help him to feel. It took hours of talking and a whole lot of me crying for us fully to understand. But with the rising sun, a dawn of understanding came.

My House may be a little rough on the outside and in need of some renovation but he's mine. As I am his, it's just the way we're made. I'll keep loving him boldly and unconditionally till he gradually grows comfortable with it. I have the strength to do that now because last night he took the first step toward me, I know it wasn't easy. But then again what in life is worth keeping if it's not worth working for?

Last night we fell asleep in each other's arms. He was so different in the night. He was tender, he was compassionate but he did all of that while still keeping what makes him 'House' in tact. It was funny but somehow when we confessed we loved each other I thought I would take to calling him 'Greg'…a show of familiarity, of personal. But I can't, he is still House to me, I hope he won't always be, I hope that that wall will too break but as of yet he isn't willing to give up that guard. To him I am sometimes Allison but always Cameron.

He was different last night but I won't, I can't expect that in the day nevertheless just knowing that there is more underneath makes it worth enduring.

"Put these on, everything will be huge but you can't walk around in that…" his words break my reverie. He produces a pair of blue sweat pants and a white t-shirt.

I nod and suppress a smile; my dinner dress is in such a state a burlap sack would be preferable.

"It's five after nine, I'm supposed to be in the clinic at nine and while I am never on time and while I think everyone has come to accept that, if 'mommy' catches us I'll be grounded for a week she is so turgid about me having women in my office all night…says it gives a bad impression to the patients…ha! Anyway, if you will please, leave," he chides shaking out a wrinkled dress shirt he must have found at the bottom of the orange and black gym bag he got my clothes from. After giving it a sniff he seems to find it passable and takes off his current shirt, he has a worn Queen concert t-shirt underneath, and puts on the…well I am not sure if I can call it clean exactly…shirt then turns to me.

"Well move it," he waves his cane at me. I grin, I could just sit here and listen to him forever… I've missed him.

"Now, I thought it was the guy that had to sneak out…Are you ashamed for me Dr. House?"

"Did I stutter? Get dressed Cameron," he shakes his head trying to sound exasperated at my audacity that I not jump right up to do his command, but I see his restrained smile.

I get up retrieving the clothes from the desk where he had laid them, "Then turn around," I wave at him.

"You've got to be kidding. I've seen you naked and hung over. I'm watching…and I am going to leer. What do you think about that?" he sits, leaning back in his chair raising his eyebrows suggestively, challengingly.

I raise an eyebrow with question, "If you expect me to strip for you, you better have something good to do it to…Got any 'Stones?" I play with the strap of my black dress, "Something along the lines of I Can't Get No Satisfaction…" I grin watching him make a face. I reach for the zipper of my dress.

Not five seconds later he has the Rolling Stones blaring from his stereo, I give him a questioning look.

"I believe in being prepared, I am like a Boy Scout that way…"

* * *

**Well, there is chapter two...I hope you enjoyed and I hope your review :-) Thanks so much and Merry Christmas :-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Previously…**

_Not five seconds later he has the Rolling Stones blaring from his stereo, I give him a questioning look._

"_I believe in being prepared, I am like a Boy Scout that way…"_

* * *

"That wasn't fair! You cheated, you were wearing underwear! What woman wears panties and a bra under that kind of dress! And not even a thong, you disappoint me Cameron!" 

I laugh reaching for the volume control as I arrange the t-shirt, "Sorry…just can't get no satisfaction can ya? What do you say we get me out of here so we can avoid the awkward questions?"

I sit on the edge of his desk. His face becomes quite serious as he lounges in his chair.

"Are you going back to Boston?"

I sigh, "Yes, I am."

His eyes loose any softening that they had had and go immediately unyielding. His hands tense on his chair, he says nothing.

"My plane leaves at ten tonight…I figure it will take me at least two weeks to get packed up, resign my position, find someone to take over my lease and then I will have to find a job and an apartment here…it will be hectic but I should be fully moved within a month, if it all runs smoothly that is," I give a long exaggerated sigh.

He still remains silent but reaches for my hand. He tugs me to him. I stand in front of him, between his legs.

"You have a job waiting for you here. The pay is lousy, and the boss is mostly a tyrant and the benefits would be all but non existent…" he smiles slyly for a moment, "And you have a home. It's not huge, in a questionable neighborhood, and the next door neighbors…well don't get me started on them," he picks up a key from the desk placing it in the hand he holds.

I tremble, this is a huge, mammoth step for him to make. That thought hadn't even entered my mind for a second, no way would I had even entertained that idea…Living together after one night? But last night wasn't typical or like anything I could have fathomed. Our friendship continued like I had never left, time somehow had kept us just as were and yet found us changed. Does that give us enough to base a step this big on? I think that maybe we wasted so much time before that time no longer has the romance it once did…but living together? Are we really read for that?

I could tell him how much this offer means, I could confess my love for him and all my emotion—but that wouldn't be real. Not that I don't feel it but that isn't how this relationship is going to work. I would do those things with Chase, but I can't with House. That is just one of many things that make him and what will make this relationship so different. He knows how I feel I've made a habit of telling him exactly that almost from the get go; he doesn't need me constantly clarifying it. Our love itself has its own validity and that feels good.

"I'll take it, but my roommate should know I can be a bit of slob on occasion and I have insatiable cravings in the middle of the night for Rocky Road ice cream…oh and I leave nylons on the shower curtain rod…and I take up a lot of closet space," I tease lowering myself to straddle him.

"Hmm, well the nylon thing could be a deal breaker. The closet thing however isn't at all a problem because I mostly just wear the cleanest thing I can find on the floor which I think also negates the slob issue. As for the cravings, I suffer from my own which have a lot to do with sex…sex…and sex and they can hit anytime…okay all the time it's a craving with about as much urgency and frequency as say—breathing. So if we can indulge each other on these things we should get along famously."

I hit him, "Oh I see, you want me just for the sex…your personal toy…I like it," I grin leaning in, wetting my lips as I draw closer to his mouth, "You know House.." I kiss each corner slowly, barely touching.

"I know everything…" he says a bit gravelly.

"Hmmph, I don't know about everything… Do you know I hate you…?" I tease his mouth with tip of tongue, getting him to engage me. I just about let my tongue enter to explore and taste, but pull back at the last second mischievously.

"You slut, I hate you more," he shifts quickly taking control, the control I happily surrender. I gasp and giggle in the back of my throat as he begins to kiss me deeply, thoroughly.

Our tongues, dance, touch, mate, and caress as we kiss hungrily, his hands cup my hips bringing me tight against him. I press in, moaning against his mouth.

My lungs beg for air, I finally have to push away head spinning from lack of oxygen.

I lay my forehead against his, we are both breathing heavily, "Maybe, but I hated you first…"

-------------------------

"I'll be done here by…we'll say three, Cuddy might say five but hey I am all about discrepancies," House stands with me at the back service elevators waiting for one to arrive.

We managed to get by everyone fairly safely, I once had to pretend I was patient recovering from brain surgery for a couple who were staring at us…and we had an almost collision with Foreman.

"I'll fix dinner," I enter the arrived elevator.

"You cook?"

"Yeah, you want to make something of it? Don't read anything into it either, I still don't do dishes or windows and don't expect Julia Child…though I make a killer peach cobbler if I do say so myself…"

He licks his lips, "Go, I think I hear nosy gossip mongers masquerading as nurses…and those galling lemming interns. Hurry, I'll dazzle them with my natural charm and wit before they catch your scent."

The doors start to close then at the last minute, House's cane stops them.

"Forgot to tell you…you look good in my shoes."

He winks withdrawing his cane letting the doors close. I look down to his worn spare pair of Nike Shox. They are too big like the rest of my barrowed outfit but in truth, I can't think of a better fit.

I just hope he doesn't try on my heels…

-------------------------

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I am sure. I take his hand and we start walking. The rain is light; we don't bother with an umbrella. The grass is so vibrantly green, spring green. Trees are getting their spring buds, and new starts. Spring is all about hope…I think we are finally feeling spring within ourselves.

He squeezes my hand as we step from the path. I look up at him questioningly. He knows the turn, and I know by his sad supportive smile and his ghost haunted eyes that's he's been here before. My tears start.

We walk carefully and come to a tall oak tree. There under the protecting embrace of the out stretched tree limbs sits a marker—a head stone.

"Annabelle Rose Cameron," House reads aloud with no emotion.

"House her name is Annabelle Rose House…" I whisper kneeling to wipe away the grass and dirt from the headstone. I lay a single pink rose down. I trace the engraved lamb and then her name. I wanted that little girl so much…I lost her.

House stands close behind me with a hand on my shoulder.

"I am sorry…so sorry," tears trickle down my cheeks and drip from my chin.

I become so lost in my grief I don't notice House kneeling beside me till he is already there. I turn to him and burry my head against his chest.

"I am so sorry for everything…that I lost her, that I didn't tell you…for the hurt I've caused you…I am sorry for it all…" I whimper.

He holds me awkwardly, resting his chin on the top of my head. He murmurs words I can't understand but know they are words of comfort and of release.

"Our daughter…" he reaches into his pocket pulling out a folded paper.

I don't ask what it is as he lays it next to my rose putting a polished stone on top. I want to, but at the same time I know that if he wants me to know he'll tell me; in his own time and his own way.

"Because I am sorry too…" he kisses my temple.

I close my eyes breathing in a jagged breath.

We might be broken but in these moments, it's bearable.

-------------------------

_Three Years Later_

"Dr. Cuddy you've got to come quick!"

"What is the matter I have things to do…"

"It's Dr. House…"

"What happened?"

"Well we weren't sure at first but then we heard the screaming…We finally figured it out when we couldn't find…"

"Would you spit it out? Clear, concise words…I know you can do it…take your time, what is happening?"

"You just better come; you should see for yourself… hurry I don't think we have long."

-------------------------

I am going to kill him! Dr. Gregory House you're a dead man! What were you thinking? This was so a bad idea…

"As I remember it Cupcake you were more then a willing participant…and if my memory serves me it was you who offered the suggestion of that creative position…that resulted in this…"

"Shut up House!" I scream not realizing that I had been complaining aloud, "It is your fault we're in this elevator…I could have taken the stairs!" I nearly bellow.

"I'm not hard of hearing…yet but if you keep screaming in this tin box, both you and I will be and I would have paid to see you take the stairs."

I glare at him pushing my back against the elevator wall.

"What is going on in there?" Another voice joins the shouting match.

"We're playing hide and seek Cuddy…go away we're not done counting!" Greg hollers pushing my skirt up to my bent knees.

"House…" Cuddy uses the 'tone'.

"Believe me I would rather have this baby in an actual hospital room Cuddy…not the hospital elevator, but…" a scream of pain cuts me off, contractions—they're a bitch.

"You're having the baby?" Cuddy bangs on the first floor doors that we have guessed are somewhere close but below us.

"Well since I can almost see the head I can safely say she is not delivering a watermelon…though it is kind of the color of a cantaloupe…"

I see Greg cock his head to the left, then the right with the most bewildered expression on his face.

"House!" both Cuddy and I shriek at him.

"What?" Greg looks at me over the top of my tented legs.

I try to remember my breathing but let's just say you try delivering something the size of a watermelon and the color of cantaloupe from between your legs and see how well you do remembering the hee hee ho, ho. Sweat is beading and sliding down my forehead and the pain is just about enough to make you're the eyes pop out of your head.

"I've got the repair men's' assurance that it shouldn't be too much longer and there are paramedics coming…" Wilson this time, I wish he would take his cheerful, casual tone and choke on it.

"Good…they can deliver this baby…I want it out now!" I pant as the contraction eases.

"What? No paramedic is delivering this baby who do you think I am? A dancing chimpanzee with Lamaze training?"

"No reason to get nasty…you aren't an OBGYN for Pete's sake House…" I grab onto his shoulder getting ready for yet another pain.

"I think I can figure it out, they do actually teach medicine at medical school, and I didn't just get lost looking for the bathroom for seven years so when it came time for graduation I walked out and got handed me an M.D. like everyone else…I do have a clue," he braces me.

"Hang on, almost over…" he soothes.

"Shut up…shut up…you did this…you! Right at this moment, I'll settle for the chimp with a pair of salad tongs! Get it out NOW!"

"Now who is being nasty? You're the one who can't keep her legs closed and you weren't complaining during conception but sure, now you complain when you have pay for the play…"

I catch his grin in the tiny slits of my eyes, "So help me, you better be being a jerk to keep me my mind of this because if you aren't…"

I can't finish my creative curse as a panel from the elevator top opens and two blue uniform clad paramedics enter.

"Dr. House, Dr. House…we're paramedics…"

Oh goody, give them a medal they know who they are! Skip the intro guys and dull out the pain meds!

"Thank you, but we donated at work; if you wouldn't mind we're trying to have a baby here…" Greg pulled down my skirt and gave them a snarled none to friendly smile.

"Let's mark our territory later boys, if you haven't noticed God and I are trying to give life here…"

"You don't believe…"

"Shut up House, you go through this pain and you'll be a believer…nothing else could create this kind of pain and something able to endure it…"

It's time…

"Okay…fine you can assist but remember I am the one delivering this baby got it?"

"It's coming…Greg!" I cry out grabbing out for something to hang on to, anything. I latch onto one of the paramedics' hair as he bends down. Poor man screams louder then I do…

"Okay Allison…get ready…push!"

-------------------------

"A boy, better hope he doesn't have House's ears," Foreman grins standing next to my hospital bed.

"No, I've got to worry about him having _his_ ears," Greg wags his finger at Wilson with good-natured sarcasm.

"He is beautiful Allison," Cuddy gives a smile to me then glares at Greg, Wilson and Foreman. Everyone but Greg shrugs with 'what?' expressions my husband just grins pleased with himself.

"Hey I helped," Greg nods and Cuddy rolls her eyes.

"Thank you Lisa," I smile looking down at my son. He is beautiful. I am exhausted but just looking at him makes the weariness and everything else in me melt. There is this…this force in me that is so strong I can't breathe when I just look down at him. This tiny, bran new, beautiful baby…Awe is the only word I can think of to describe this feeling in me. Awe, that this tiny one is part of me, grew in me, was born from me. Awe that I can love him so much that I think the sheer force of it could kill me. Awesome, awe inspiring…soul stirring.

"Have you named him yet?" Foreman asks.

"Yes," I start to answer but already the proud Dad, Greg interrupts, "David Gregory."

"David Gregory House, very nice," Wilson approves with a nod.

"It's perfect, he's perfect…you did good Cameron," Foreman says affectionately kissing my cheek and giving another smile to sleeping David.

"She thanks you and I remind you that at the very least its Cameron –_hyphen_—House, don't forget."

I laugh adoring my husband even more. He's changed so much…He's still the same curmudgeon man he always was but now he's as stubborn and matter a fact about loving me as he is about everything else. He came to realize that I wasn't leaving again; I wasn't going to give up on him so it was okay to love me back. He now acts as nonchalant about kissing me in the hospital as he does about harassing Cuddy or goading Foreman; it's now just a way of life.

He isn't always gentle and sometimes he forgets that I still need assurance from time to time of his love that just because it's known as a fact, I still like hearing it. He is protective and sometimes overly possessive but we straighten it out. We're a balance that can be thrown off if we're not careful. For all his armor, wit and sarcasm he can be surprisingly insecure, but he has nothing to fear I've loved him forever and I know I'll die with that same love burning inside of me.

Slowly one by one Cuddy, Wilson, and Foreman give their congratulations and say goodbye. The room has been gradually filling with flowers, stuffed animals, blue balloons, and a couple pink balloons that were the result of a bad cell phone connection.

"We did it…" I sigh rocking our sleeping baby.

"Yeah…we did," Greg sits on the side of the bed and puts an arm around me.

"I believe that it is time for Daddy to hold his son."

He looks a bit unsure then crinkles his nose, "He's not…he doesn't have a full diaper does he?"

I laugh, he is truly concerned, "Honey, he's barely a few hours old and hasn't had much to fill his diaper with."

"Ha, ha," Greg makes a face at me.

"Come on, he won't break or leak if that is what you are afraid of," I slowly lower David into his waiting arms.

"Hey there big guy…I'm your dad. I actually delivered you…though your mama didn't think I could do it…huh, showed her."

I feel my heart swell even more. I think my son is beautiful and seeing him and his father together makes me quake and wonder what I ever did that I should deserve this much happiness. Love, admiration, and immeasurable gratitude fills me so much I can hardly surface for air.

Greg told me the night I first came back to New Jersey that I, like him was broken, unfixable. It was, is, true to a degree. But now I am healing, truly healing as I believe he is too. The power of a child, innocent, new, complete and whole he is our hope, our healing salve.

We're still broken my husband and I will always be. The hurt that seems to accompany the scars and memories is starting to fade. We'll no longer be shattered.

"I love you," Greg is looking to me now.

"I love you too," my words are little more then a whisper.

The road here was bumpy, so hard and heart breaking. I never thought we'd make it but while the trip was shaky and sometimes the destination couldn't be seen, our aim was always true.

_End

* * *

_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ well there it is, my first House story. I know the miscarriage was a bit of a redundant story line but I meant really for the story to revolve around the idea that Cameron and House didn't have to be 'fixed' to be together that it is their brokenness that actually makes them so well suited and a trauma as heartbreaking as losing a baby seemed the best way to facilitate a hurt they could share so I could use it to bring them together._

_The Chase element was thrown in there because in spite of myself, I like Chase and Cameron together and it fit with song 'Alison' inspiration. I hope everyone enjoyed and I hope you review! I appreciate it so much! Thanks again for reading! –RaeAnne _


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